


The Dunbonnet's Cave

by Zoe1078



Series: The Dunbonnet's Cave [1]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:12:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6742399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoe1078/pseuds/Zoe1078
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A response to a tumblr prompt: “What if Claire had a medical conference in Scotland, in her time, and couldn't resist visiting Lallybroch. She then finds a stone or discovers the cave Jamie stayed in and sees something Jamie carved there.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unexpected Visitors

Despite my reservations about being back in Scotland, the conference was exactly the distraction I needed. As a resident, especially a female one, I knew I was enormously lucky to be afforded the opportunity to attend the international symposium. But I had done the lion’s share of the work on my attending physician’s research on a novel technique for cholecystectomies, and he had rewarded me with the chance to present our data. I wasn’t sure I could emotionally handle the trip, but then I learned that Drs.  Fourestier, Gladu, and Valmiere were the keynote speakers. Their novel innovations in cold light fiberglass illumination were certain to revolutionize the very future of surgery. It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. 

Once I found myself in Glasgow, I couldn’t bear to return to Boston without a visit to Inverness to see the good Reverend Wakefield and his housekeeper Mrs. Graham, especially since I still had a few days of vacation left. If nothing else, the side trip was a way to delay my return to Boston and to Frank.

I had known he would have no interest in travelling with me and wasn’t the least bit surprised when he declined my invitation. But it still hurt that he didn’t even look up when I asked if he wanted to come. However, that hadn’t hurt nearly as much as the unexpected visit I received two days later. Frank was still at work, while I had stumbled home blearily after a brutal 32 hour shift at the hospital. The doorbell rang just as I fell onto the couch in exhaustion, still clad in my scrubs and too tired to make myself something to eat. In fact, I thought I might be hallucinating when I opened the door only to have a furious, distraught young woman try to slap me in the face. My surgeon’s reflexes stopped the open palm flying at me mid-swing. When the girl pleaded for me to “let poor Frank go,” my sharp nurse’s tongue immediately silenced the mistress with a succinct, “He’s welcome to go anytime, and he knows it. Didn't he tell you that? I won’t beg, nor will I try to stop him. If he hasn’t left, it’s because he doesn’t want to.” Then I shut the door in her shocked face.

In retrospect, it was a good thing that I was alone. I broke down the second I was sure she couldn’t see or hear me, and to this day am not really sure what I did for the next few hours. I had pulled myself together by the time Bree came home, though, and robotically prepared dinner.

I felt betrayed, of course I did, but I also thought it was probably what I deserved. After all, I had strayed from the marriage before he had, and I had betrayed him in a way that he had never done. I had fallen wholly in love with James Fraser, while I was certain that Frank had not fallen in love with this naive young woman. If he had, I had no doubt that he would have left me already, Brianna or no.

I regretted what had transpired between us, for our marriage had once been a happy one, and I did still love Frank. But after Jamie, I simply could not love him in the way I once had, not after I’d found and lost my soul’s true mate. Despite my bone-deep exhaustion, I lay awake long into the night listening to Frank’s quiet snores. All I could think was that it had been a mistake to stay with him. I had been right when, after returning through the stones, I told him we should divorce, and I should never have given in when he insisted on remaining married. He thought we would recover, but as time wore on, things only got worse. I knew he still loved me, but over time that love was devolving into something suffocating and dark. I had already suspected a dalliance or two, perhaps even a months-long affair. Frank spent a few too many late nights “working”, and returned home smelling distinctly of perfume. Without hard evidence, though, I willfully ignored my suspicions. Yet it was somehow still a shock to have a woman materialize at my door.

Still, I said nothing to him. I couldn’t see the point. There was nothing he could say to make it right, and nothing I could do to change the fact that I loved a memory more than I loved him. The prospect of a row was exhausting, and would do no good for Bree, who adored Frank. Without a clear path, I simply waited, and I threw myself into my work.

When the conference finally arrived, it was a relief, though I couldn’t help but feel a pang in my heart when I realized we would be in Scotland for Beltane. Bree was deliriously excited to fly across the ocean, and I felt like she could finally breathe in Frank’s absence. And as conflicted as I was about ever telling Bree anything about her real father, I wanted my young daughter to have some memory of the place she was really from, even if I couldn’t tell her anything about her origins. Frank hadn’t been happy about Bree missing a week of school, but I reminded him that she was only in kindergarten, and she already knew all her letters and numbers. It wasn't as if she was going to fall behind in school.

I knew I had made the right decision when I saw the delight on Bree’s face as Mrs. Graham’s granddaughter, Fiona, tugged her off to play. Likewise, when I nearly broke down in front of Mrs. Graham, and the older woman pulled me in for the most comforting hug I had received since I passed through the stones, I knew I had made the right decision for myself. I didn’t feel well, exactly, but I felt free. If only I knew how to keep that feeling of lightness in my chest. If it weren’t for Bree, I would simply leave Frank, and I would know it was the right decision for both of us. He could find happiness with someone else, and the weight of his destructive love for me would be lifted off my shoulders. But it wasn’t just the two of us. He loved Bree wholeheartedly, and she him, and it would be a cruelty to part them.  I wished I knew what to do. There seemed to be no good solution. As heartbreaking as it was to stay with Frank, the idea of breaking Bree’s heart by leaving him was even worse, for I surely valued my daughter’s happiness more than my own.

My morose train of thought left me feeling vulnerable and indulgent, so when Bree ran back into the house begging to accompany Fiona on a day trip, I acquiesced before I realized what I had agreed to. My daughter was so excited that she simply vibrated in place, and I was powerless to resist.

“Now, what is this? Where are we going?” I asked. Fiona and Bree tried to explain it to me, their high pitched squeals overlapping one another. Due to the disjointed manner in which they told the story, I only grew confused.

Mrs. Graham explained, “‘Tis a local legend. After Culloden, a Jacobite Laird managed to escape the battle and made his way home. But he couldna live in the main house for fear o’ being captured. He lived for seven years in a tiny cave on the estate, and his people brought him food, helped him survive. They called him the Dunbonnet because of the cap he always wore on his heid, and because they didna want to say his name, for fear of the redcoats overhearing. It’s a few hours drive from here, but I promised Fiona I’d take her today. She wants to see the cave, has been asking for months, and this may be the only sunny day we have for weeks. We were going to pack a picnic. We didna know you were coming, else I’d ha’ promised her a different day.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry that we interrupted your plans! I don’t mean to keep you. We can entertain ourselves.”

Bree began to wail. “Mama! I want to go! I want to see the cave!”

Mrs. Graham insisted it would be no trouble to bring us along, so off we went. It wasn’t until we arrived that I recognized my surroundings. Lallybroch. She had driven me to Lallybroch. The perceptive Mrs. Graham must have seen some ghastly expression upon my face, because she asked me, “Are ye all right, dear?”

I failed to steady my voice. “The Jacobite Laird, this was his estate? And he survived?”

“Aye.” Mrs. Graham examined me closely as she shifted the car into park. “So the legend goes.”

To convince myself, I muttered aloud, “Legend. Just a legend. A story.”

We hiked for two miles, or rather, Mrs. Graham and I hiked, while the girls chased each other in wide circles. Finally Mrs. Graham pointed up a rocky slope. From the bottom of the hill, we could see no evidence of a hiding spot. “Are you sure this is the right place, Grannie?” asked Fiona. “I canna see a cave.”

“‘Twould be a puir hidin’ spot if ye could see it from the ground, no?” Mrs. Graham replied. Despite her age and the pain in her joints, she started nimbly up the rocks, children scrambling up behind her.

I set off behind them, heart pounding, gasping for breath, though I had hardly exerted myself. All the way up, I reminded myself,  _ It’s not possible. It’s simply not possible. It’s just a story. _ But when I heard the girls’ squeals of excitement above me as they found the hidden opening, I couldn’t help but think that when I reached the cave, I would look into the darkness to see a pair of beloved blue eyes peering back at me, absurd though the notion was.

Indeed, when I reached the top and looked over Mrs. Graham’s shoulder, beautiful blue eyes shone from the cave. I could see a face, but in my mind’s eye, it morphed back and forth between that of my husband and that of our child. Blood rushed in my ears with a roar, and it wasn’t until Bree grabbed my hand and shoved me into the narrow space that I realized my daughter was speaking to me. The lovely blue eyes belonged to Bree, not to Jamie.

“What does it say, Mama? What does it say?”

It was dark and claustrophobic, and all I could think was that this was a miserable place for a man to be trapped for a day, let alone for seven years. At that moment, I didn’t want the legend to be true, not for Jamie, not for anyone.

Then my eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the cave’s opening, and I saw what Bree was trying to show me. Carved into the wall were four words, words that made my heart stop, just for a second.

“What does it say, Mama?”

I had to swallow the lump in my throat in order to answer. I stepped back into the light, and I slid the silver ring off my fourth finger, just as I had hundreds of times before in order to scrub for surgery. I didn’t know I was crying until I realized I couldn’t see the inscription because of the tears in my eyes, but it didn’t matter. I knew the words by heart. With shaking hands, I showed Bree the inside of the ring.

“It says this, sweetheart. ‘Da mi basia mille’.”


	2. Beltane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is divergent from the books, rather than the show. Assume that Claire hasn't spoken to anyone except Frank about Jamie. Also, the poem is the famous, “To a Mouse,” by the incomparable Robert Burns.

The whole story poured out of me that evening after the girls had gone to bed. I hadn’t meant to say anything, but Mrs. Graham possessed not only a sympathetic ear, but an open mind as well. When she asked me about the relevance of the poem by Catullus, I told her everything, and to my relief, she believed me openly and without hesitation. Grateful tears sprang to my eyes at her gentle acceptance. I had told Frank the truth, but he had simply thought me mad. And even if he hadn't, my current husband was the wrong man to speak with about how badly I missed Jamie. It was unreasonable to expect understanding from him. But with Mrs. Graham, I found a friend and a kindred spirit. 

After I eventually fell silent, Mrs. Graham said the words I had been too afraid to say aloud, the ones I could hardly bear to contemplate. “So he lived. After all that, yer husband survived Culloden and made it home.”

“I can't believe that, can I? He meant to die. He knew he would, if not by the hands of the British, than by the MacKenzies.”

She squeezed my hand. “Surely you ken that  _ the best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men gang aft agley _ . And this is good news, no?” 

I crumpled into myself, overwhelmed. “Yes! But not… I mean…”

Trying to understand my despair, Mrs. Graham gently touched my silver ring and asked, “Do ye think someone else carved those words into the cave wall? On yer husband’s property? That some other Jacobite was the Dunbonnet?”

“I don’t know. Who else could it have been? Murtagh? But he’d never carve that into the wall.”

“I think you ken the truth, lass. ‘Twas your husband.” Upon this declaration, I finally broke down. Mrs. Graham pulled me close, asking, “Why are ye so sad? He lived!”

“But he still died over a hundred years ago, no matter what happened then. And if he lived, that means I left him. I left him behind for nothing!” It wasn’t just despair or grief that overwhelmed me, but guilt.

She stroked my hair and reminded me, “Not for nothing. For Brianna, my dear. And for him, so that he would ken that you are safe. And you are. You did exactly what he wanted.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “But I didn't want to go. I never did. But I did it anyway. It’s as you said:  _ the best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men…  _ We made so many plans. So many absurd, foolish plans. And for what?” 

Gently, she asked, “Do ye ken the end of the poem?” I shook my head. I’d read it, of course, but I did not know it by heart. As most Scots could, she recited the last stanza. “ _ Still thou are blest, compared wi’ me! The present only toucheth thee: But och! I backward cast my e’e, On prospects drear! An forward, tho’ I canna see, I guess an’ fear! _ ” After a pause, she added, “Dear Rabbie was like the lot of us, lookin’ back on his life wi’ regrets and remorse, and unable to see the future. But you, Claire, you arena like us, no’ like Rabbie neither. Ye’ve seen into the past, and you can move between the past and the present. Claire, you can write yer own future!”

“What are you saying?” I breathed, unable to comprehend the implications. 

She took my trembling hands in her warm ones and told me, “Ye can go back and find him, if that's what ye want.”

I didn't sleep a wink that night while I thought it over. My mind was a riot of anxiety, guilt, and grief, but of hope and excitement as well. Were I alone, I wouldn't think twice. I would risk anything for the chance to see Jamie again, even the deadly stones. For they were deadly, or indeed, even worse than death for some. I had felt the presence of so many souls trapped in that place, being torn asunder for all eternity. Yet I would risk that place, risk that fate, for Jamie. But I wasn’t alone. I had my daughter to think of. It was unthinkable to go without her, as unthinkable as it was to consider risking her life through the stones, and as unthinkable as it was to abandon Jamie to a desolate existence in a tiny cave. 

I had no idea what to do.

The next day, Mrs. Graham told me to take it just one step at a time. We both knew I’d never abandon my young daughter, not even for Jamie. So my only choices were to let him go, or to take her with me. “We don’t even ken if she’d be able,” she pointed out. “If you knew she could not, you could move on wi’ your life, and eventually come to peace with the fact that ye’ve done the right thing, what’s best for yer child, which is just what he wanted.”

“How could I know? How would I find out?”

“You tell me, dear,” she answered. “When ye saw the stones, did you see anything? Feel anything?”

I answered reflexively, though as the words left my mouth, I wondered if I’d be better off lying. “Yes. I heard them humming. And then, when I got close, screaming.”

“And then ye… passed?”

I clarified, “Only once I touched them. It was the same when I came back.”

“So let’s take her there, and see if she can hear. If she can’t, then you can put this all behind ye.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Without that information, I could delay making any kind of decision. I wouldn’t have to face this terrible choice. I could stall, indefinitely, perhaps. “Are you sure that’s the right thing to do?”

“It’s better than sitting here fretting, ye ken?”

“What if I like to fret?” I asked mournfully.

She chuckled and picked up her car keys. “Ye dinna have to decide today, Claire. Just find out if she can hear. Then you can think about it for as long as ye like. Take her home to Boston, if that’s what you want. You can always come back. You must know you’re always welcome here wi’ us, after all. And the stones havna moved in hundreds or thousands o’ years. They willna disappear.”

It was Sunday, so Fiona was still out of school. The girls were as excited to visit the stones as they had been to see the cave. All the way there, Fiona chattered about fairy stories to Brianna, having no idea how true they really were. I tried not to think about passage through the stones, not to think about the hazards of life for a small child in the eighteenth century, not to think about what it would be like to tear Brianna away from the only father she had ever known.

As soon as we parked, Bree and Fiona bolted away, chasing each other up the hill. “Slow down! Girls, wait!” I managed to catch up quickly and reprimanded Bree. “Don’t run off like that! You can’t do that, not here!”

She pouted at me as she slowed. “Why? It’s like a great big park! And there’s nobody here but us!”

“Just… because I’ve said so.” I was too tired and emotionally drained to come up with a better answer. I did, however, hold tightly to her hand, not wanting her to get too far ahead of me, and, God forbid, fall through the stones without warning. “Do you hear anything?”

She looked up at me quizzically. “Do you mean the birds, Mama?”

She was right. We were too far away to hear the stones. Certainly, I couldn’t. Not yet. My heart began to pound. What if I couldn’t hear them myself when we reached the top? What if I’d lost the ability to travel?

When we reached the top, however, my attention was pulled to Fiona when she tripped over a loose stone and reached her hands out to brace her fall. She cried out as she hit the ground, then rolled onto her side and clutched at her wrist. I rushed forward, letting go of Brianna. “Are you all right, dear? Where does it hurt?”

Tears filled her eyes, and I knew they were not crocodile tears. She was in real pain. She pointed at her wrist, but she wouldn’t let me examine it. “No, dinna touch it!”

“I need to check it, sweetheart. I need to make sure nothing’s broken.”

She pulled away, shaking her head. “Leave it alone!”

As I crouched down and tried to calm her, I heard Mrs. Graham’s raised voice as she approached. But she wasn’t yelling for Fiona. She was calling out my daughter’s name. I spun around to see Bree stumbling forward. She was headed directly for the cleft stone. The singing stone.

“What is that, Mama?” she wailed, clutching her ears.

I leapt up and sprinted toward her. “No! Brianna, back away!”

But she didn’t listen. Perhaps she couldn’t hear me, for she was so close to the stone. I, too, could hear the buzzing, like a swarm of bees surrounding my head. She glanced back at me and mumbled something, and then she reached her hand toward the rock. I leapt, but not before she vanished, blinking out of existence.

“Brianna! Bree!” I didn’t hesitate. Still screaming her name, and without a backward glance, I hurled myself into the howling void.

  
  



	3. Hope

I tumbled, and twisted, and fell, and fell, and fell. I cried for my Brianna, but my voice was lost amidst the screams of the lost souls trapped in that space out of time. I sensed her wordless terror, but it came from everywhere and nowhere at once. I looked for her, but all was blinding white. I reached for her, but my hands found nothing. Here there was no direction, no space, no orientation. Distance was meaningless and endless all at once. But she was here. I knew it in my soul, though my hearing, my sight, my speech, my touch, all were meaningless here, though all my body’s senses had failed me. 

Then, in desperation, my mother’s heart sang to hers, and hers to mine, and in this way, we somehow found each other in the void.  
  
Now I reached my heart out again, seeking my soul’s true mate, and together, Bree and I tumbled onto the rocky ground.  
  
My head spun and my stomach churned, but I was grateful for the earthly sensations, for they meant I once again possessed corporeal form. I clutched Bree close to my chest while she wept in terror, telling her I had her and that I would never let her go.  
  
Luckily, we were alone, so I had time to calm her. She clung to me as I rocked her in my lap, and eventually she asked me what had happened, and where were Mrs. Graham and Fiona? I gave her the only answer I could think of. “Darling, do you remember seeing Alice in Wonderland?” It was the first film we had ever taken her to, and she had insisted on going back three more times. She nodded and wiped at her nose with her fist. “At the very beginning, when Alice chased the White Rabbit, she fell down his hole, right? Well, something like that just happened to us. We fell, sweetheart.”  
  
Her eyes grew wide, and she started to look around, perhaps trying to find the Cheshire Cat or the White Rabbit himself. “Are we in Wonderland, Mama?”  
  
“No, baby. We fell through something different. We fell through time. This is still Scotland, not Wonderland, but it’s not 1954. I think it’s earlier.”  
  
Bree believed me as a child believes, with curiosity and awe, but also with innocent trust. When she asked me if it was magic, I told her I thought so, because I had no better answer. “So where… I mean when? When are we?”  
  
“I don’t know,” I told her truthfully, though my heart leapt when I spotted the ruined cottage at the foot of the hill, looking much as it had the last time I’d seen it. Yet that was no guarantee that we were in Jamie’s time. It had stood there, abandoned, for years. Otherwise, the rolling hills and lush greenery looked much as it had when I’d fallen through before, but Craig Na Dun and the surrounding landscape had looked the same way for centuries, revealing no other clues. The only thing I could be sure of was that no asphalt road cut through the landscape.  
  
I knew generally where we were and where we ought to go, and with no other options, we began to walk west. Bree kicked pebbles and stuffed her hands in her pockets. Then she furrowed her brows, reminding me so much of her father, and pulled out a woven rope gold chain. Holding it up to show me, she cocked her head and asked, “What’s this, Mama?”  
  
I took it from her. A pendant dangled from the end, but the setting was empty. “I don’t know, baby. Where’d you get it?”  
  
She shrugged. “I dunno. It was just there in my pocket. Do you have one?”  
  
“I don’t think so.” But I checked my pockets, and indeed, found a thicker chain, this one attached to a locket. There was a pearl set in the front, and space for what must once were small gems surrounding. When I opened it, I found not a picture, but the words _Good luck_ . “Mrs. Graham,” I breathed. “Mrs. Graham must have slipped them in our pockets.”  
  
We began to walk, though Bree soon began to tire, and I tried to make a game of moving forward. I would spot a particular rock or tree in the distance and yell, “Last one there’s a rotten egg!” When she would go no further, I simply carried her on my back, and I made better progress when she fell asleep drooling on my shoulder. When my arms tired too much to carry her further, I placed her on a bed of moss and foraged edible berries and plants. After she woke, she whined about the quality of our food and refused to eat it, but when her hunger overwhelmed her and it became clear that it was all I had to offer, she ate, and I knew she would not starve. Happily, she thought it was great fun to drink from a clear stream, though she became thoroughly soaked in the process. We were lucky that we had arrived on an unusually warm day.  
  
Now that her fear had passed, Bree asked me question after question, as small children are wont to do. She wanted to know where we were going, and I told her that we needed to find help. We had to find friendly people, but must be cautious, because not everyone was kind. I thought to tell her of Lallybroch, of Jenny and Ian, of her cousins, but I still did not know exactly when we had arrived, or if they were there, and I could hardly bear the thought of raising her hopes only to have them dashed. I was struggling with the same emotions myself. As worried as I was to be here with my small daughter, I prayed desperately that I was back where I truly belonged.  
  
That evening, we came across a small homestead. Two small girls, close to Bree’s age, were playing by the barn. They spotted us quickly and ran over, laughing at our unusual clothing. They tugged us toward the house and yelled for their mother to come see us. She emerged from the house and immediately became scandalized at our “strange breeches”, which I explained away by claiming this was not so unusual in our hometown of Boston, which she immediately declared to be a wicked place full of heathens. She then wrapped us both in unnecessary blankets so that we couldn’t offend anyone with our appearance. Luckily, she didn’t see us as a threat and was more curious than anything else. Her husband was more suspicious, but he became friendlier when we offered Bree’s gold chain in exchange for more appropriate clothing and transport to Lallybroch the next day. Still, we couldn’t stop them asking what we were doing, so I explained that we were trying to reach our family who lived near Broch Mordha.  
  
The family allowed us to stay with them for the night and shared their supper, and I was able to determine that we had arrived in 1752. While the children played, I began to silently pray. If all went as planned, we would reach Lallybroch the next day. It was so close. Perhaps _he_ was that close. I thought I’d felt his presence here, in this time, when we were lost in the space beyond the stones. My heart reached out for him and drew us here, but that was hardly empirical evidence. But just as last time, I’d traveled 202 years into the past, and if Mrs. Graham’s legend was to be believed, Jamie lived in the cave for seven years. By now only six had passed. So not only did I know when we were, I knew where he most likely was. I could find him, if he had indeed survived.  
  
That night, wrapped around Bree on a pallet by the hearth, I dreamt of my Jamie. I could see very little in the darkness of my dream, but I felt him with me. I said nothing, and he said nothing, because no words needed to be said.  
  
The next morning, in gratitude for their hospitality, and to pass the time, I helped with the morning chores while Bree helped the girls feed the farm animals. We ate a simple, hearty meal, gave our thanks, and climbed into the back of the wagon. While we rode, I told Bree about the family we were trying to find. I spoke of Jenny and Ian, instructing her to call them Aunt and Uncle, as well as Jamie, Maggie, and Kitty. She had fallen in love with the mares who pulled the wagon, so I told her of Lallybroch’s stables, and she became terribly excited to see Donas.  
  
I asked to be left on the outskirts of the village of Broch Mordha. Though we could have gone directly to Lallybroch, I needed a chance to speak with Brianna alone in order to prepare her for what was to come. She had been asking after Frank, and I couldn’t say anything about him until we were alone.  
  
We waited until the wagon was gone from sight, and then I led her toward the woods rather than the village. I recognized where we were, and we would have ample time to talk. When we reached the forest, I knelt down in front of her. "I know you want to see Daddy, but he's not here, darling."  
  
"When, then? Can we go home after we see Aunt Jenny and Uncle Ian?"  
  
"You know the rabbit hole we fell down?" She nodded, frowning as she remembered the terror of that place. "In order to go home, to see him, we'd have to fall through that again."  
  
"No! I don't want to! It hurt a lot, and it was so scary! I lost you, Mama, and I didn’t think I’d ever find you! I didn’t know where I was, or how to get out!"  
  
"I don't want to either. I don't think we should. It’s not safe."  
  
She tried again. "So how do we go home? Can we get on a plane?”

It hurt my heart to do so, but telling her anything other than the truth would do her no good. “No, I’m sorry. There are no planes here. And even if there were, they couldn’t take us back to Daddy. I think we need to make this place our new home.”

Her pale skin began to flush, and she started to breathe quickly. “I don’t know if I like it here. Can Daddy come to us?"  
  
I cupped her cheeks in my palms and told her, "I'm sorry, baby. So sorry. Not everyone is able to fall through that kind of rabbit hole. Daddy isn't able."  
  
She screwed her little face into a frown. "He doesn't fit?"  
  
"That's right. He doesn't fit."  
  
Now her bottom lip quivered. "So when do we see him again?"  
  
"I don't know. I'm not sure we get to see him again."  
  
Instead of crying, she screwed up her courage, balled her little hands into fists, squared her shoulders like a soldier, and asked, "What if I'm really brave, and I jump into the rabbit hole again? Can I go back?"  
  
"No, darling. Not now. It’s even worse to go through a second time. Each time it hurts more, and it’s more dangerous. Do you remember, inside the hole, there were people trapped there. Could you tell? Did you hear them?"  
  
She threw her arms around my neck and clung on for dear life, as if afraid we were about to get ripped apart. "They were s-screaming. They were hurt so bad. It was awful!"  
  
"Not everyone who falls in comes out on the other end. We can't risk falling in and never coming out again, or getting separated."  
  
At this she finally burst into tears. "But Daddy! I want to see Daddy!" I simply sat and rocked her, whispering my sorrow into her ear as she cried for Frank. When she finally calmed, I said softly, "Alice wanted to get home from Wonderland, but what if it turned out that Wonderland was her real home? What if her real family was there instead of the Queen of Hearts?"  
  
She sniffled softly. "What do you mean, Mama?"  
  
Her nose was red and wet from crying, and I kissed its tip. "The people we're looking for? They are our real family. Aunt Jenny is your real Aunt, sweetie. And Uncle Ian is your real Uncle. I wasn't telling a story earlier. Jamie, Maggie, and Kitty are your cousins."  
  
"I don't understand. I don’t have any cousins."  
  
"Sweetie, do you remember where babies come from?"  
  
She twisted around in my lap and placed her hand on my belly. "Mommy's tummy. Daddies help put them there."  
  
"That's right. Well, the daddy who put you in my tummy isn't the Daddy you know. This isn't the first time I've fallen through the rabbit hole. It happened to me before. It was scary, and I was alone. But I met a wonderful man named Jamie, and I fell in love with him, and I married him. He's your Daddy."  
  
Understandably, Bree didn't like this idea at all. "No, Daddy is my daddy! No!"  
  
"Your Daddy, Frank, he loves you more than anything in the whole world.” I pointed to her heart. “And yes, that does make him your Daddy. Being here doesn't make him any less important, or any less your Daddy. You just have two, that's all."  
  
I was able to get her to walk with me again. She was silent for a time, thinking about what I had told her in her serious, contemplative way. I felt her tension in the way she held tightly to my hand.  
  
It took us less than an hour to reach the spot. Bree recognized it, as it hadn't changed in two hundred years. She brightened up immediately, excitedly asking me, "Mama, are we going to find the Dunbonnet?"  
  
I grinned at her. "Do you want to? I know it's just a legend, but somebody must have carved those words into the cave wall. Should we see if we can find him?"  
  
She looked nervous and eager all at once. "What if he's scary? What if he's mean?"  
  
I reassured her, "Do you remember what Mrs. Graham said? His people helped him survive out here for seven years. I'll bet that means he was a nice man. But he may look a little scary, since I don't think he has a comb or a brush or any clean clothes."  
  
"So he may look scary, but you don't think he actually is?"  
  
"That's right, if he's even there at all." I kept her behind me as we climbed. My heart raced and my mouth went dry, and I tried to rein in my expectations. I thought about telling her more, telling her that the Dunbonnet was her real father, but she had already had too much emotional trauma today. I would hardly be able to hold myself together, let alone her, if I raised both our hopes only to find an empty cave.

When we were halfway up, I told her to wait on a little ledge. I would go first to make sure it was safe. I climbed higher and reminded myself that whatever happened, Bree and I were together, and that was what mattered most. I wanted desperately to find Jamie, but if I did not, I would still survive. I had to, for her sake, just as he wanted me to. My palms were sweaty and my pulse raced as adrenaline pumped through my body, but instead of moving faster, I slowed, delaying ‘til the last possible second my potential disappointment, and hoping perhaps that he would hear me coming and poke his head out, sparing me the crushing disappointment of looking into an empty hole. For that reason alone, I knew I ought to call out a greeting, a warning, something. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out but a choked whimper.

Then suddenly I was there, and there was no point in further delay. I took a deep breath, grabbed a hold of the foliage covering the cave’s mouth, and pushed it aside.

Once again it was dark, and at first I saw nothing. Without warning, a glint of steel flashed in front of my eyes, and I heard a growl as a dirk was brandished in my face. Startled, I let out a yell and stumbled backward. But there was no ground behind me, only a steep, rocky incline. I started to fall backward as I heard an alarmed, “Mama!” below me.

I reached reflexively out, finding nothing but air as the clouds tilted above me. Just as I failed to plant my feet on something solid, a strong hand grabbed my wrist, and I halted mid-air.

As I was pulled upward, I closed my eyes reflexively, terrified that when I opened them, a stranger would appear before me. But then I heard his voice, cracked and hoarse from disuse. He whispered my name.

I didn't open my eyes, because it didn’t matter what he looked like. I didn't return his incredulous greeting, because words were unimportant. I didn't do anything at all, because there was nothing more that I needed to do. In that moment, I had everything I had ever wanted. I was whole once more.

Jamie yanked me up to safety, to his body, to his embrace, to his heart, and I knew I we were home.


	4. Mo Nighean Ruadh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought this story was done at the last chapter, but received some requests to continue. Jamie meets Brianna for the first time.

We might have stayed like that forever, just holding one another, not moving, not speaking, just being together, were it not for our child below. I felt it the moment Jamie spotted Bree for the first time. His arms, which shook as he clutched me tightly, stilled. In fact, he froze completely. His breath halted, and I heard his heart skip a beat where my ear was pressed to his chest. “Jamie...” I began.

“ _ A dhia!”  _ He struggled to form proper words. “I… Is that…?”

I tried to turn around to look at her, but he held me too tightly. 

“Mama?” Her voice quavered with trepidation. “Mama!”

I squirmed and urged, “Jamie, she’s frightened. She doesn’t know who you are, or exactly what we’re doing here. I didn’t want to get her hopes up in case we couldn’t find you.”

“Of course!” He abruptly released me.

I twisted onto my stomach and parted the foliage so she could see me properly. “I’m fine, darling! The Dunbonnet saved me, kept me from falling. I was just…” My mind went blank, and I couldn’t think of what to tell her. “I was thanking him!” I blurted out absurdly.

Behind me I heard a snort of startled amusement. Then he ducked backward into the cave. “What a sight I must be! Go to her,” he urged.

I peeked back, unable to see him clearly by the dim light filtering through the branches. His eyes, though, were bright, and beloved. I had missed them so. “Are you sure?” I was reluctant to move, even just a few feet away, now that we had found one another again. 

“As long as you promise to come back!” I could hear from the tone of his voice that this wasn’t a joke. And then, more quietly, he asked, “You are real, are ye no’? I willna wake in a moment to find that you’re just another dream?” He reached out, tentatively this time, but didn’t touch me, afraid that I would disappear. How many times had he woken here, in the dark, reaching for me? Perhaps as often as I had reached for him. 

“Oh, Jamie.” I couldn’t help myself. I knew Bree needed me, but I turned around in the tiny, cramped space and reached out to take his hand, bony and large. With my other hand, I touched his cheek. It was covered by a beard, and I could feel under my fingers that the flesh beneath was gaunt. God, he really had been living out here for years, hadn’t he? I leaned forward until we were only millimeters apart. “We’re real. Both of us. And we’re not leaving you again, do you hear me?” Then I pressed my lips to his. They were dry, chapped, and utterly perfect.

I scooted backward and out of the cave before Bree could become any more frightened. “What’s going on, Mama?”

As soon as I made it down to the little ledge where she waited, she latched onto my waist. I pried her free in order to pick her up and hug her properly. “Everything’s all right. I’m fine. I started to fall, but he caught me.”

She peered cautiously over my shoulder. “So he’s real? He’s not just a story?” 

“Not just a story. He’s a man, and a very kind one, though awfully startled to see us.”

“Does he want us to go away?” She tried to whisper, but in the manner of small children, her voice carried as a breathy yell. 

A startled, “No!” came from above. “Dinna go!” The foliage in front of the cave rustled, and I made out his form behind the brush.

I gave her a reassuring smile. “Hear that? He would very much like to meet you.”

“And that’s why we came?” she asked, still uncertainly clinging to my neck.

“Do you remember how I told you that I fell through the rabbit hole before? I met him the last time I was here. I know him very well, and I was hoping he was the Dunbonnet. He’s a wonderful man.” 

I could see her trepidation transform into determination, and after a pause, she squirmed to be let down. “Okay. I’m ready, Mama.”

Jamie, who had been listening intently, peeked out from the cave. Just as I had expected, he was filthy and gaunt, and his beautiful face was covered by a scraggly mass of unkempt beard and wild hair. Yet I wasn’t focused on his appearance, but on his expression, which was pure awe. He made his way down to us slowly and, I think, purposefully, in order to compose himself, and then he knelt before our daughter.

She tugged me down to her level, grabbed my ear to bring it close to her mouth, and whisper-yelled, “He's so dirty!”

Jamie overheard, of course, and laughed, which softened his face considerably. “You're no’ wrong, lass.  _ Dhia,  _ you're huge!”

This left her less intimidated. Proudly, she said, “I'm the tallest kid in my class, even taller than all the boys!” 

He murmured, “I’ve thought of ye as a bairn, as a wee babe, sae many times, but…”

Bree was quick to correct him. “I haven’t been a baby in  _ years _ ! I’m not a big kid yet, but I’m definitely not a baby.” Then she stuck out her hand rather formally and said, “Mister Dunbonnet, thank you for saving my Mama.”

A range of emotions crossed Jamie’s face, beginning with surprise and ending with intense gratitude. For he remembered, as I did, the moment he pushed me toward the stones, the moment he sent me away to save us, to save the child who stood before him today. Then, as gently as can be, he took her small hand in his. Solemnly, he said, “You're welcome, lass. I vow always, always to do everything in my power to protect your mam, and to protect you.” 

Bree arched a skeptical brow, uncertain why this stranger was making such a promise. “Um, okay? Mister Dunbonnet, are you okay?”

For his smile trembled, and tears drew pale lines down Jamie’s dusty cheeks. “I'm just verra, verra happy to meet you.”

Brianna had never seen a man cry before. Frank was affectionate, thoughtful, and kind to her, but he never displayed emotions of the sort that Jamie showed upon seeing his daughter for the first time. "Oh. When I'm happy, I don't cry. When I cry, it means I'm sad or mad. But here." She reached into her pocket, pulled out a crumpled tissue, and offered it to him. He was perplexed by the fine, thin paper, so I took it and gently wiped the tears from his face.

“Oh.” He let out a little, shuddering sigh, leaned into my touch, and closed his eyes. "Thank ye. Thank ye." His voice was thick and soft. How long had he suffered without human comfort?

Brianna peered at him quizzically as he nuzzled at me, and I knew it was time for more of an explanation. Not knowing where to begin, I urged her, "Darling, can you introduce yourself?"

"Sure." Very clearly, she enunciated, "My name is Brianna Ellen Randall. What's yours?"

As Jamie heard his parents’ names in hers, he glanced at me with a surprised gleam in his eye, though he was immediately jarred by her stated last name. "It is a true honor to meet you, Brianna." He pronounced it with a distinctive highland lilt, then returned his full name. It was as deliberate and clear as the first time he told me, right before we wed. "I am James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser."

"And you know my mama?"

"Aye. I know your mam verra well. She's my very favorite person in the whole world, in fact." Brianna looked quite pleased at this, and he grinned at her. "And I have the feeling I’m going to like you just as much." She looked even more pleased at that.    
  
"We had some adventures when I was here before, you know,” I added, wanting Bree to like Jamie before we told her who he really was. “He was one of the first people I met when I fell through the rabbit hole, and the very nicest. He took care of me when I needed it..."

Jamie clarified, "Actually, she took care of me the first time we met. I’d just been shot off a horse, ye ken, and my shoulder popped out o’ joint when I landed.”

Brianna’s eyes practically bugged out. “You got shot?”

Jamie yanked his collar to the side. “Aye. Even have the scar to prove it.”

Bree let out an awed, “Ooooh,” and peered closely it. 

Jamie grinned at her. “Your mam took one look at me, pushed aside all the men who were arguing over what to do with me, and fixed me then and there.”

“Oh, Mama’s a very good doctor. She has a big dilpoma to prove it, too,” she said, mispronouncing the word and stretching her arms wide to illustrate the size of the paper.

I explained that I’d graduated from medical school and had begun my training to become a surgeon. Jamie grabbed me in a great hug and spun me round as he told me how proud he was, and Brianna giggled at his enthusiasm. But she didn’t want to talk about my schooling, or hers. She wanted to hear about our adventures, and of Jamie getting shot. 

We decided to have a little picnic while we talked. Jamie checked a snare and found a plump rabbit caught in the line, and he skinned and roasted it while Bree looked on in slightly horrified fascination. We also had a loaf of bread and some cheese, and we had picked some berries as we walked. We split these up for supper. All the while, Jamie regaled Bree with tales of traversing the Scottish countryside together. He was a natural born storyteller, and she a rapt, wide-eyed audience. She clapped her hands together in glee when she heard how he rescued me from Fort William and the clutches of Black Jack.

“Jamie is quite the hero.” He and I smiled at one another, but Brianna froze. I had gone the duration of the conversation calling him Mr. Fraser, and she hadn’t made the connection between the Jamie I had told her was her father, and this man.

"Jamie? He’s Jamie?” Her eyes widened as realization dawned. "The one you told me about?"

Unable to resist any longer, I reached out for his hand. He took it in both of his and squeezed tightly. "Yes. Jamie’s your father, the man I married when I was here before.”

Bree’s face fell as she looked at our linked hands. She was understandably overwhelmed, and she stepped back. “So he’s my… my… And he lives in a cave?!” Suddenly the story of the Dunbonnet didn’t seem quite so romantic. Indignantly, she demanded, “Are you going to make me live in that cave?”

“Of course not!”

But she wasn’t listening, not any longer. Despite how much she had been enjoying his company, her face screwed up into an angry little frown, and she clenched her fists. “But I want my Daddy and my house! Mine!” Then she turned and fled.

Jamie started to go after her, calling her name, but I stopped him. “Please, just give her some time. It’s a lot for her, and…”

He nodded, crestfallen but resigned. “Go.” I couldn’t help but look back at him as I ran. He started to wave, but stopped without fully raising his hand. Neither of us could bear any kind of farewell, no matter how temporary.

Despite how fast she ran, it was easy to catch up to her. I found her weeping at the foot of an ancient oak and gathered her into my arms. "I want to go home," she cried. "I want a cheeseburger and a milkshake, and my bed with my purple blanket and my fluffy pillow, and Mr. Puffkins. I want Mr. Puffkins!" This was the stuffed elephant Frank had given her on her last birthday. She had carried it all the way to Scotland, never letting go of his floppy ear for the entirety of the plane ride. Every night when I tucked her into bed, she carefully made sure his trunk emerged from the covers so he could breathe. More than that, though, she wanted Frank. "I miss Daddy! I want my Daddy!"

I rocked her gently back and forth. "I know, sweetheart. I know. He loves you so much, and he always will, just like you love him."

Now she twisted around in my grasp and stared at me accusingly. "Do you? Do you love Daddy?"

"Of course I do." And it was true. I did love Frank, though it was not in the same manner as I did before I fell through the stones. 

"But you love Mr. Dunbonnet more?"

There was no denying it. Young though she was, it only took one day to see the differences between my interactions with Jamie versus those with Frank. It made no sense to her, not at her age, but she knew nonetheless, and she didn't like it. "Yes," I answered truthfully.

"Well, I don't! I love my Daddy! Take me back, or I'll go be with Daddy without you!" I let her cry bitterly for a time and held her against me, stroking her hair. She fisted her hands in my clothes and buried her face in my neck. When her sobs quieted to soft hiccups, I told her how sorry I was, and I reiterated the dangers of the passage. Despite her crushing disappointment, she remembered the horror of the stones, and she didn't ask me again. She did want to know, "Why did you go back at all? Why didn't you stay here?"

"Oh, my darling." Now I kissed her forehead and explained how desperately I wanted to stay, to raise her here amongst her true family, but war had broken out, and we'd been caught in it. "It wasn’t safe, though I didn't care. I wanted to stay with your-- with Jamie. But he knew I was pregnant with you, sweetheart, and he refused to let anything bad happen to you. It was just too dangerous.”

She sat back far enough to look me in the eye and defiantly said, “I wouldn’t have been scared! I would have been brave!” 

I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I don’t doubt it for a second! But it wasn’t a matter of being brave. There were soldiers coming after us, after me. I had to run. Jamie sent me back to save our lives, to save your life."

She pursed her lips, considering this. "He saved our lives?"

"Yes. You and I, we wouldn't have survived if we’d stayed here. He sent us back because he's loved you since the moment he knew you existed. Before I even knew you were inside me, he knew, and he loved you. And he wouldn't let anything bad happen to you, even though it broke his heart to send us back."

"He loves me?" 

Her big blue eyes looked into mine in surprise, but before I had a chance to answer, Jamie emerged from the trees. He approached us slowly, giving Brianna time to acclimate to him again, and knelt before us. His fingers twitched with the desire to touch us, to reach for her and take her into his arms, but he resisted the urge. It was too soon. "Aye. I do. You dinna have to feel the same, not now, not ever.”

This response surprised her, for he didn’t realize he was there, or that he would validate her feelings. “I don’t?”

Very earnestly, he told her, “It’s up to you, Brianna. I just need you to know that I’ll still love ye ‘til my last breath,  _ mo nighean ruadh _ , no matter what. Even if we never see each other again." His voice quavered at the end, for he was still terrified we would vanish, or that he would wake from the most vivid dream of his life, leaving him with a broken heart and the damp walls of the cave. 

She pouted at this. Despite the shock and her despair at being separated from Frank, she liked Jamie, though she didn't want to admit it. “Never see each other again? Are you sending us away?”

“No! Never! In fact, I think I need you to stay here and protect me from the English soldiers! You do have a sword, aye?” Brianna couldn’t resist his charm. The corner of her mouth quirked up slightly as she shook her head. “No? A bayonet? A musket? A dagger?”

She couldn't keep the smile off her face. “Of course not!” 

“Do ye just use your deadly fists when ye fight?” He jumped into a ready stance and boxed the air in illustration.

Now she giggled. “Silly, I don’t fight!”

I reminded her of an exception. “Except Bobby Sheridan.”

“He deserved it!” she exclaimed, then eagerly regaled Jamie with a dramatic recounting of the time she had shoved the neighborhood bully into the mud for trying to steal a toy from one of her friends.

Jamie was delighted. “Ah, you’re a fierce wee fighter, then! And a defender of your friend’s honor. That's a fine thing to be. ‘Tis a good thing I left your mam in your hands. You’ve taken good care of her, haven’t you? I can tell.”

Brianna and I nodded at each other, pleased. She had, in fact, saved me by her very existence. Without her, I surely would have been consumed by despair. “She’s the very best daughter a mother could ask for.”

“I can see that. And I meant it, lass. Thank you. Truly.”

Bree looked down at the ground and kicked her foot into the dirt, suddenly a little shy in the face of his raw honesty. “You’re welcome. So, um… I guess it wouldn’t be too bad to stay for a little while. As long as I don’t have to live in that cave.” We reassured her that she did not. Then an idea popped into her head, and she began to bounce on the balls of her feet in excitement. She tugged at my sleeve eagerly. “But Mama, it would be fun for a sleepover?”

Jamie didn't recognize the term, so I explained, “She’d like to stay with you there, maybe just one night, for fun.”

“Like camping!” she declared.

“Stay with me?” He sucked in a breath, relief and joy evident in his eyes. “I hadna thought, even in my wildest dreams, of such a thing. I would like that. Verra much. Though there’s a much nicer bed awaiting ye at the house. Shall I take ye there?”

“Is it safe, you think?” I asked. “For you to go to the house?”

“Now that it's getting dark, it should be safe enough to show you the way. I do go once in a great while, for a hot meal and a shave.” Bree took my hand, and Jamie led the way, pushing aside brush and clearing a path. He explained, “I usually wait for Fergus to fetch me, but I'll walk you most of the way there, at least. If anything looks amiss, I'll turn back. But with or without me, Jenny will be thrilled to see you, both of you!”

My heart leapt at the thought. I had been so focused on finding Jamie, or worse yet, at not finding him, that I hadn't spared a thought for the others but to prepare Bree. “Fergus? He's here? Oh, Bree, you're going to love Fergus!”

We told her of the young pickpocket, and she was eager to meet him. “So he helps take care of you?” she asked Jamie. 

“Aye. Good care.”

“Does he keep you company?”

Jamie was quiet for a beat. “When he can, but…”

Perceptively, she asked, “Do you get lonely in there? It looks lonely.”

He could hardly answer, and when he did, his eyes met mine, and I saw the isolation of the long years in them. “It is.” During our separation, he had lived in the earth itself, and had only brief moments with his sister and her family to remind him he was human. I, on the other hand, had had Bree, my work, and, to some extent, Frank, to tether me to the world, yet felt as untethered as a drifting balloon, battered about by the wind. Until now. 

Brianna looked up at him, considering her response. “Me too, sometimes. Mama’s at work a lot. Other kids have brothers and sisters, or cousins and stuff. I have friends, but…”

“But it's no’ the same, is it? As family? Well, Lallybroch isna the biggest estate, but ‘tis big enough, and filled with folk who’ll love ye. I dinna think you'll be lonely here.”

“Will you stay with us?” she asked hopefully. 

Now his jaw clenched as he realized that he, the rightful Laird, would not be able to live with his long-lost, desperately wished for family at his own estate. “Not usually. Just here and there. It's not safe, ken.”

Bree was visibly distressed at the tone of his voice, for it was in clear contrast to the upbeat manner with which he'd approached her. “Are you sad?”

He smiled at her gently. “No, lass. I canna be sad in your presence, for I think, perhaps, that your smile is made of magic.” The answering expression on her face illustrated his point perfectly, and he reflected it right back at her. I marvelled at how alike they really looked. I had always seen his face in hers, but not like this, not side by side, not with Jamie close enough to touch. “Aye, there it is. There's that magic, bonnie smile.”

“Silly, magic’s not real,” she giggled. 

“But of course it is!” he retorted. “After all, what do you think brought you and your mam here?”

“Oh!” she squealed. “That was magic, wasn't it? Just like in a fairy tale? Mama, are fairy tales really real?”

Above her head, Jamie’s soulful eyes shone at mine. I was captured wholly and completely, and at that moment, I was happier than I'd been in my entire life, with both my loves by my side.  _ Thank you,  _ he mouthed silently, and I did the same. 

Never breaking eye contact with Jamie, I answered our daughter, “I don't know about other fairy tales, but ours most certainly is.”

He added, “I thought perhaps your mam was a fairy herself, when she told me she came through the stones. I don't know if that's what she really is, but I do know she was sent to me by God, as were you.”

“In that case, if this is a fairy tale,” she said definitively, “there's a happy ending.” She tugged me over insistently, then slipped her other hand into his. As he looked down at their linked hands in amazement, she told Jamie, “So you don’t have to be lonely anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know in the books Claire hasn’t taken off her ring at this point, but a surgeon in the modern age could never get away with that, so I’ve changed it. And Drs. Fourestier, Gladu, and Valmiere did, indeed, change the face of surgery by making possible modern laparoscopic techniques.


End file.
